כִּי תִשָּׂא אֶת רֹאשׁ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לִפְקֻדֵיהֶם וְנָתְנוּ אִישׁ כֹּפֶר נַפְשׁוֹ לַידֹוָד בִּפְקֹד אֹתָם וְלֹא יִהְיֶה בָהֶם נֶגֶף בִּפְקֹד אֹתָם
“When you take the census of Bnei Yisroel according to their numbers, let each one give to Hashem an atonement for his soul, when they are counted; and then there will be no plague among them when they are counted,” (Shemos 30:12).
In this pasuk, it is mentioned that Bnei Yisroel must bring an atonement when they are counted, though the Torah does not detail the sin requiring this atonement.
The Midrash Tanchuma (siman 4) reveals that the need for atonement stems from the nations of the world’s claim that Bnei Yisroel merited death, seeing that they sinned with the Egel Hazahav (golden calf) only 40 days after receiving the Torah. Bnei Yisroel agreed, referencing the pasuk that mandates death for idol worship, “A person that slaughters an animal to other gods shall be put to death … ” yet they appealed for Hashem’s forgiveness on the basis of their forefathers’ merit, asking that their act of giving money serve to elevate and atone for them.
Zera Shimshon asks—given that Bnei Yisroel themselves conceded their deserving annihilation—why did Hashem not enact this judgment? Hashem is the epitome of absolute justice, never compromising on fairness for the sake of nepotism or any such considerations! Why, then, did Hashem yield to their plea?
Before delving into his explanation, it’s essential to understand the context. The pesukim Bnei Yisroel cited to align with the nations of the world’s stance uses an unusual term for “put to death” in the phrase, “A person that slaughters an animal to other gods shall be put to death … ” Instead of the typical expressions for capital punishment like “mose yamus” or “demayim bo,” the Torah employs “yacharum,” deriving from “chairem,” which in parshas Bechukosai refers to dedicating something to the Bais Hamikdash. This dedication renders the item unusable by anyone for personal benefit, hence implying destruction in this context. Given the Torah’s choice of words for idol worship’s penalty, Zera Shimshon suggests that the rules governing dedications to Hashem also apply to the death penalty for idol service—at least when it comes to the worshipping of the golden calf.
What are the rules that govern making something “chairem” for Hashem?
The Gemara in Eruchin (28a) states that one may dedicate part of his flock, cattle, or non-Jewish servant to the Bais Hamikdash but not his daughter or Jewish servant. The difference? The capacity to consecrate items to the Bais Hamikdash hinges on complete ownership and the power of sale: only possessions or individuals entirely under one’s control—such as cattle, flocks and non-Jewish servants—are eligible for dedication. In contrast, a father’s authority to either marry his daughter off to someone or sell her into servitude expires when she reaches the age of 12 and a half. It is not a right he has forever. Similarly, an eved Ivri (Jewish slave) is governed by Halachic principles, which restrict the owner’s dominion to a maximum of six years—up to the yovel—or until the slave secures his own redemption. While it’s possible for the eved Ivri to voluntarily extend service beyond the six-year mark, this arrangement too is not indefinite, terminating no later than the yovel. Therefore, one is not able to consecrate a daughter or eved Ivri to the Bais Hamikdash—even though at the present moment they are in his possession.
Hashem made a pledge to Avraham Avinu, ensuring that his descendants would take possession of the land of Canaan. This commitment—as the Ramchal elaborates in Daas Tevunos—stands as an unbreakable promise from Hashem, one that transcends the conduct and spiritual state of the Jewish people. It signifies that—irrespective of their actions—whether they adhere to His commandments or experience periods of spiritual faltering, Hashem’s assurance to Avraham Avinu remains steadfast and his descendants will prevail and, eventually, inherit Eretz Yisroel.
This perspective implies—in a manner of speaking—that Hashem cannot eternally forsake us. Given that the death penalty Bnei Yisroel acknowledged as their due is dictated by the laws of chairem (as the Torah uses this term to define the death penalty, referring to it as “cherem”), Hashem cannot obliterate klal Yisroel. This insight allows us to reinterpret Bnei Yisroel’s defense, “shield us through the merit of our forefathers.” Initially, it seemed to suggest that Bnei Yisroel pleaded that Hashem should show leniency towards them out of love for our forefathers. However, this interpretation is flawed and impossible because Hashem administers justice impartially, without favoritism.
Rather, their contention was rooted in the covenant and promises Hashem made to our forefathers, affirming He would not forsake us eternally. Alternatively phrased, Hashem cannot sell, give or transfer us by any other means to others indefinitely. Thus, Hashem is bound not to obliterate us—as such annihilation is constrained by the laws of “cherem.”
Another halachic principle regarding “cherem” also prevents Hashem from annihilating the Jewish people; it stipulates that one cannot declare all of his belongings as “cherem,” as he must retain something for himself. Hence, given that the entirety of Bnei Yisroel faced the penalty of death—with Hashem informing Moshe that only he would survive to form a new nation—this rule contributed to our salvation.
Ultimately, Bnei Yisroel’s act of worshipping the golden calf was a significant transgression that warranted divine retribution: no misdeed goes unpunished. This concept that every wrongful action merits a consequence is a cornerstone of justice, emphasizing the importance of accountability and the certainty of facing the repercussions of one’s actions. Therefore, in response, Hashem instructed them to contribute machtzis hashekel as a means of redemption from annihilation (cherem)—mirroring the process of redeeming an item dedicated as “cherem” to the Bais Hamikdash.
In summary, the reason Hashem did not accede to the demands of the nations of the world for the destruction of Bnei Yisroel, following their worship of the golden calf—just 40 days after witnessing Hashem’s revelation—is for one of two reasons. Either because of the promise to Avraham of ultimate redemption. This promise negated the possibility of our total annihilation, and it meant there was no authority to declare us completely consecrated for destruction. Or secondly, because Hashem cannot annihilate the whole Jewish nation, just as one cannot contribute all of his belongings to the Bais Hamikdash.
The assurance from Hashem that He will never annihilate the Jewish people and that they are destined to reclaim Eretz Yisroel must be understood correctly. This promise is not a license for arrogance, nor should it lead us to boast or believe in our invulnerability due to our own greatness. Rather, it is a call to humility—a reminder that our continued existence and future redemption are manifestations of Hashem’s immense love for us, not a testament to our own merits. Witnessing the miracles and wonders Hashem performed—and continues to perform—for our people should not breed arrogance and feelings of superiority; instead, they ought to inspire us to pursue ever-greater levels of kedusha, meticulously keeping all of the mitzvos and moral excellence.
